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| Under Fire; tag Charles Brandon | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 2 2010, 03:36 PM (267 Views) | |
| Edmund Howard | Nov 2 2010, 03:36 PM Post #1 |
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1 December 1511 His Catherine, Caty, was getting married. Edmund was so happy for his little darling daughter. So much, that when he heard of the betrothal to the Duke of Suffolk, and of her joyful response to it, he ran across the room to and fro talking loudly and excitedly, and embracing random people. Everything was setting out well, finally. The dreadful issue of king’s mistress was a thing of the past and his rosebud was on the way to happiness. And she would be a duchess too! Such a grand promotion for the daughter of some lord, of good family, but still just the younger son. Thomas’s hand ran deeply into this, but on this occasion Edmund did not curse his brother the duke’s involvement; it was a good thing for once, an nothing shameful about it. Norfolk would think of it as political advancement but for Edmund it was only about the mirth of the family coming together. That was so for the first day. Yet on the very next one Edmund’s mood swung one hundred and eighty degrees, from elation to worry. Charles Brandon the Duke of Suffolk; a wealthy man of great rank, but reputedly a drunk, gambler, and most awful womanizer. Such view did not bode well on the marriage that was going to happen. Would Brandon love Catherine? Would he respect her? Take care of her, be dutiful and faithful as a husband? Edmund had high expectations of the man who would marry his youngest girl. A foppish, arrogant, uncaring man simply would not do, no matter what station he was holding. It was bothering Edmund exponentially, although he knew not how he could exact on Charles Brandon a promise and execution of good conduct towards his daughter. He was the father, yes, but the case of king’s mistress revealed remorselessly how little say he had in Catherine’s future. If his brother, and the king, and most importantly Caty wanted this marriage to happen, it would. He could not really prevent it, and even stalling it would be difficult. Above all else, Edmund hoped that Charles himself wanted this wedding, and life with Catherine at his side, as his foundation and mother of his children. And here, finally, was the day Suffolk promised to meet his betrothed’s father. It took a bit longer than Edmund expected but he was impatient; he wanted this conversation to take place at once, and the Duke was certainly a busy man. Appearances mattered, so Edmund made sure to wear his best clothes and groom his hair. He wasn’t the wealthiest of people and silks were not his thing. They were, he found, too soft and delicate; clothes were meant to get dirty as man went about his work, and spending too much money on clothing was like offending God. At least in the instance of people like him; His Majesty, his brother, the other dukes like Suffolk and their wives, they were expected to wear only the finest materials. They were in positions were appearance meant everything. And Catherine, as Duchess of Suffolk, would have the best gowns and many maids to dress her in them. The money wasn’t the important thing though, and that’s why Edmund Howard walked through the corridors alone to the chambers of the Duke of Suffolk. He was going to make it a long, serious talk about the fate of his daughter as the Duchess of Suffolk. He needed assurances from Brandon that the man would change and honour the lord’s daughter as if she were a royal princess. Nothing else and nothing less would work. With that standing, Edmund approached Suffolk’s usher at the duke’s door and explained he had an appointment with the man’s master. |
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| Charles Brandon | Nov 7 2010, 07:40 PM Post #2 |
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Charles had known it was going to happen eventually. The meetings with Catherine Howard’s family were, in all likelihood, going to be numerous. Her father and her uncle were two men who undoubtedly saw a great advantage to this marriage. Her uncle in particular had likely had a hand in it, though Charles didn’t suppose he could blame the man. If he had a daughter, or a niece, that he was sure he could do well by, could advance at court, of course he would go to great lengths to do so. That said, Charles would not be a pawn or a playing piece in anyone’s plans, save his own. He knew that he was considered an advantageous sort of husband, that their marriage would be considered beneficial to the Howard family. But if Norfolk thought that through this marriage he could have some sway over the influential Duke of Suffolk, the man had another thing coming. Charles had set himself on the alert from the moment he’d learned who he was to marry. Today, however, his meeting was with the one Charles was a little less wary of. Catherine’s father, Edmund Howard. Charles had yet to decide whether Edmund had Catherine’s best interests at heart, or the interests of the Howard family. He supposed that was something he would find out today, along with what exactly was expected of him as the young woman’s husband. So he’d agreed to meet with him, though had been in no rush to make it happen. Charles got the impression that Edmund was impatient and eager to discuss Catherine’s future, whereas Suffolk was in no real rush to do any such thing. He had the feeling that requests would be made of him, and he was in no great hurry to pledge love and alliance to a woman who he found tolerable, suitable, certainly, but he most definitely wasn’t in love with her. His behaviour, and his exploits, was his business alone. Anyone who wished to make it otherwise would be sorely disappointed in Suffolk’s lack of agreeableness. Lord Edmund was on time, which was no surprise at all, considering. Charles was informed of his arrival and instructed the usher to bring him in. The Lord was shown in and the usher departed, leaving the two of them on their own. Charles gave a stiff bow of greeting. “Greetings, Lord Edmund. I apologize that it took so long to meet with you, my obligations are many.” He did not wish to be overly aloof with the man, who, as of yet, had not given Charles any reason to dislike him. Nor did he wish to seem too warm and receptive, giving the impression he was overly thrilled about the impending marriage. He was not unhappy, per se, but he didn’t feel it the best thing that had happened to him thus far, either. “Please, have a seat. I suppose we have much to discuss, concerning the imminent joining of our families.” Not that Charles had much of a family; he was the last of his family name, which made it all the more imperative that he have healthy sons to carry the line. At least Catherine came from a strong family, and seemed quite healthy and capable of carrying a healthy child herself. |
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| Edmund Howard | Nov 13 2010, 10:26 AM Post #3 |
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Edmund had a case of the shakes. Not on the outside, mind you – he did his utmost to be as collected us possible, which turned as a bit stiff in the end – but his insides were shaking like some badly mended clock, bits and pieces threatening to fall apart at any moment. While he was ushered into the chamber of the Duke of Suffolk, Edmund was putting a desperate case before himself, a case for calm, composure and stability. Who was he in the light of this grand man, a duke, privy councillor, friend of a king? He was of course older in age, and father of Suffolk’s betrothed. Did Brandon care about that? But he was the brother of the Duke of Norfolk too. For a brief second Edmund considered whether it wouldn’t be better if Thomas came in his place. A duke had to respect another duke, surely? But this was a stupid thought and Edmund mentally chided himself. Thomas would use the occasion only to push his private agendas and tug Suffolk to his side, Catherine playing only the part of introduction to wider topics, her happiness never to be assured or cared for. It was all in Edmund’s power to look after his youngest girl and make sure the duke would treat her as she was supposed to be treated – and in the mind of Edmund, that meant worship to a princess. Standing in front of the Duke of Suffolk, a much younger man, once again Edmund reminded himself, the lord bowed respectfully; half through this bow, though a sign of submission, he finally found his claim to importance: he was a Howard, and the Howards, mostly by his father’s and brother’s doing, were a mighty family. That Brandon had to recognize, and at least a partial recognition should be granted to the lesser man. But Edmund wished with all his heart that his future son-in-law cared about him most because of Catherine, the lady he was about to marry soon. ”Your Grace, so good of you to see me, he said by way of greeting as he emerged from the humble pose. The Duke was certainly well mannered, as a man of his station should be. Edmund accepted the seat with a little smile, showing gratitude rather than familiarity which wasn’t yet between the men. ”You need not to apologize, Your Grace. I know that you’re a distracted man. I do not wish to intrude for long,” if his father and mother could see Edmund, they would be proud. He acted every inch as he was taught to, respectful, roundly worded , biting down his impatience to jump into his subjects, namely if Suffolk intended to be a good man for his Caty. That she would be a good wife was of course no doubt, she was her mother’s daughter, and so she inherited all necessary graces of a good housekeeper. ”Joining of our families, yes,” he nodded. This sounded so much like Thomas would have worded it, and for the first time Edmund pondered how similar to Norfolk this Duke of Suffolk was. Was he ambitious, scheming, inconsiderate of others, unstoppably grasping? The first one wasn’t entirely despicable, Edmund judged, but if he found the other three in this man, he would do everything to break this betrothal, including taking Catherine and the rest of their family away from court and hiding them from this man’s, and his brother’s, sight. There was far road however from one phrasing to such extreme gradations. What Suffolk said was, quite possibly, just a well-shaped fixture in speech; a duke had to speak grandly, especially in formal settings – Edmund was yet a stranger and not a father-in-law. If the marriage went through and was happy, which Edmund prayed for eternally, the warmer attitudes would follow shortly. ”Your Grace will forgive me, a loving father, if I just call it as it is? A joining between my daughter and you? To speak openly, I care not much about the joining between the Brandons and the Howards, whatever goods it brings to our families. That is my brother’s, the Duke of Norfolk’s, most esteemed concern. I’m here simply as the father of the girl Your Grace is about to marry.” Well, that was it, Edmund put his cards openly on the table for the Duke to look at and adjust his hand, to use such gaming analogy. Edmund didn’t care much about cards, and frankly, he had not much of a gambling face. All he cared about now was his Caty and what sort of a lad she was getting in this marriage deal cooked by his brother, with consent of the King. |
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| Charles Brandon | Nov 20 2010, 09:45 PM Post #4 |
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Charles wasn’t sure he was going to like where this conversation was sure to go. As he sat there, waiting for Edmund to explain his reasoning for arranging this meeting – though he had a general idea as to the purpose, he was more curious about the man’s angle on the matter – the young Duke wondered what he’d done to make anyone think he was particularly eager to get married. The king had seemed to think he was bestowing some great honour upon Charles, encouraging this union. Probably because Catherine came from a powerful family. It only made sense – it would almost be a waste, if Charles had decided to marry someone without much of a name or a place in court. And yet... and yet he’d been in no rush to marry. Regardless, he was betrothed. That wasn’t changing. He needed to accept it and move on. At the very least, Catherine’s company was tolerable, pleasant, even. And the young woman seemed immensely happy at their betrothal. This was, he figured, probably because she was a sweet young woman who would be happy with anyone who might treat her kindly. The fact that he was a Duke didn’t hurt matters, nor did the fact that he was an attractive one – he was not falsely humble; he knew he was an attractive man. He could have done far, far worse. Once he accustomed himself to the idea, he supposed he could be happy enough with Catherine. “Yes, do speak plainly,” Charles said, nodding as Lord Edmund requested forgiveness for calling it as it was. He wanted to know the man’s motives, wandered to know if he was a man to respect, or to be wary of. In marrying Catherine Howard, he was exposing himself to far more contact with the Howards than he’d ever had before. And honestly, more contact that he’d ever really cared to have. Norfolk was ambitious and scheming. Manipulative. A force to be reckoned with. A good ally, perhaps, if one could have him as an ally. But otherwise, a dangerous enemy. He did not know Edmund Howard enough to know if he was much like Norfolk, or completely different. He was concerned that it might be the former, hoping that it was in fact the later. Edmund’s words did come as something of a surprise to Charles, though he kept his thoughts masked and very much to himself. The man said that he was here not because of the ‘joining of two families’, which was a concern more primarily belonging to the Duke of Norfolk. Instead, he had come to Charles simply as a father; the father of the Duke of Suffolk’s betrothed. If his motives were truly as he said, then Charles could find no fault in the man’s determination to meet. If he had a daughter, he too would wish to know that she would be properly cared for in marriage. Unfortunately, he had failed his sister in such a way, but he’d been too young to understand how to secure a good life for her. One day, Lord willing, he would have daughters and while he would strive to have them married to important, influential men, he would also wish that they would be treated well. So he studied Edmund thoughtfully, determined that if there was an ounce of dishonesty, a trace of deceit, he would find it. This man would not be given his respect if he was undeserving. And yet he found nothing, whether it was because Edmund was an expert deceiver or because he was honest, Charles wasn’t sure. “The father of the girl I am to marry,” Charles said slowly, nodding, “yes, that you are. My future father-in-law.” He paused, contemplative. “If you care not for the joining of the Howards and the Brandons, then permit me the same privilege I have permitted you. Allow me to speak plainly. What do you care for? That is, what has brought you here, to see me?” In all likelihood, the man had come to drawn from Charles several promises. Like, for instance, that Charles would treat Catherine well. That he would adore her, and dote upon her. That he would be faithful to her. Charles was not sure what he would say in that instance. He could pledge to treat Catherine, the future Duchess of Suffolk, well. He could promise that he would never strike her, would never cast her aside or purposely shame her. But he could not promise fidelity. He just wasn’t that sort of man, the sort of man to be undyingly loyal to any one woman. Particularly not a woman who he hardly knew, and who most certainly did not have a claim to his heart. |
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| Edmund Howard | Dec 10 2010, 03:27 PM Post #5 |
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Edmund did not know truly what he wanted from this conversation. He wanted to know that Charles Brandon was a good man, a good husband for his Caty. He wished to believe the man wasn’t all about ambition and politics, although surely not many men could equal his own brother in being so coldly manipulative. Still, many were captivated by life that Caty would not like, the parties, the elevation, the seeking of fame, honour and riches that Brandon already did have despite his young age. But did he want more of it? And did he want to marry Caty? These things Edmund wanted to know, confirm them or cross them out as folly, yet he didn’t know how he was going to pry them out of the Duke of Suffolk. Certainly, his position was weak, only the father of the bride, his concerns posed against the wills of such men as his brother, and, it seemed, even His Majesty himself. What could a man like Edmund Howard do against those? Not much, it seemed, but he wasn’t going to blindly turn Caty over to someone who was going to hurt her, no matter how much happy she was about it, for her mirth and blissfulness would soon turn into sour torment at the side of a captor rather than a gentle lover. The course their conversation was taking did somewhat please Edmund, and he felt reinforced in his position. His Grace himself agreed to frankness, and offered to be candid in turn. This bid well, unless it was a ruse, but Edmund was not quick to judge people as liars. He had to go against his nature however, sharpen his wit and strain his eye to notice any sign of falsity on the side of his respectable interlocutor. This early in the talks, he could not sense anything except that the Duke was being open, and not one ounce above the necessary degree of amicability. Did he know what purpose drove Edmund to speak with him? Well, of course hi did, because Edmund already spat out why he was there. He came as the father, nothing less and nothing more, and he would do his duty to Catherine. Oh, if his little Caty knew what he was doing, she would be absolutely furious. But it was his place to know who she was marrying, Joyce would have approved. He hadn’t told Joyce either, not in so many words, except shyly mentioning one concern or another about this whole marriage deal. This was entirely his doing alone, and he was quite proud of himself for doing it, acting finally like a true father should. A question from Brandon’s lips, so straightforward, almost unfair, would have thrown Edmund off his game if he was not so sure of the rightness of his cause. They could do it this way. Edmund could tell the Duke what he expected, and Charles would then receive the opportunity to explain his intents, a shot at trying to impress the father-in-law Edmund was going to become to him. There was only one problem, Edmund didn’t quite know how to put his conditions exactly. Caty was not like a horse, or a house, or a man of expertise to be put on sale under specific guarantees of misuse. He cleared his throat, and wished the Duke offered some refreshment, but didn’t dare to ask for it. ”Your Grace, I am a father. I mean not to offend you, but were you one too, you would know what brings me. I want to know that you’ll be a good husband to my daughter,” here he said it out loud, and Edmund almost couldn’t believe he did. But he didn’t regret. It was right and in the spirit of honesty they both declared to follow. A warm feeling of surety went down on him and reinforced his voice as he continued the unrehearsed, yet surprisingly confident speech. ”I do not expect you to be a saint, and I’m no fool. But I want my girl to be content in this union. I have been blessed with a wife that makes me ever happy, and I have taught Catherine that such happiness is possible. She is a virtuous lady, a goodly maiden and, like her mother, she will be Your Grace’s perfect wife, full of love and obedience, and all that Your Grace has need for, and she will bear you many children, like her mother bore me. But in return, what will she get from you, Your Grace? Will you honour her, will you make her happy?” Feeling almost inexorably exhausted by the long words, and incapable to produce more, Edmund sank into the chair. Yet, he could not take a rest. Having produced himself so much, he owed Catherine his greatest diligence and energy in listening to her spouse-to-be. Anything less than satisfying, he would have to take it to both her and Joyce, and start his utmost attempts to sear this disreputable union before it came to pass. He hoped he wouldn’t detect in Brandon any source of malady, and he was not sure that he had the strength to break what his brother conceived and the King agreed upon. But he would not relent from a task of driving it to nought, as well as he would not stand in the way of a happy matrimony, shall Suffolk satisfy him. |
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| Charles Brandon | Jan 19 2011, 01:07 PM Post #6 |
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[size0]((Sorry it took so long; I’m back from hiatus though! whee! I suppose this thread is pretty much to be wrapped up, as we’re switching to spring, yes?)) As Charles had expected (at least marginally), Edmund was here to find out if the young Duke would be a good husband to Catherine. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to the request, supposing there were few assurances that he could give. So he thought the man’s question over. Would he be a good husband to Catherine? What precisely did being a ‘good husband’ entail? He’d seen plenty of plenty of marriages at court, so few of them ‘happy’ marriages. Most husbands took mistresses, few husbands were... faithful to their wives. It was practically expected. Charles hadn’t had the opportunity to see his own parents, how they interacted. His father had died before he’d even been born; his mother had died when he was young. He’d been raised by court, by tutors and teachers and instructors. He was a young man of the court, through and through. This was his home, not the estate in the country. And regardless of the fact that he was soon to marry, he would be loyal first to the king and this country, then to his wife. But he supposed none of those answers, none of those thoughts, would seek the father who sat here in earnest, hoping to acquire some promise of goodness towards his daughter. ”I do not expect you to be a saint, and I’m no fool. But I want my girl to be content in this union. I have been blessed with a wife that makes me ever happy, and I have taught Catherine that such happiness is possible. She is a virtuous lady, a goodly maiden and, like her mother, she will be Your Grace’s perfect wife, full of love and obedience, and all that Your Grace has need for, and she will bear you many children, like her mother bore me. But in return, what will she get from you, Your Grace? Will you honour her, will you make her happy?” Edmund seemed exhausted by the effort and sank back in his chair, whereas Charles contemplated his words in all seriousness. Charles himself had no wish for Catherine to be unhappy, he just wasn’t sure that he had it in him to be a doting, adoring husband. As he contemplated his words, he remembered his lapse in hospitality – this was hardly a hostile meeting, he ought to show the Lord Edmund every kindness. “A drink for the good Lord Edmund and I,” he said to a servant who hurried off to do Charles’ bidding. “Your concern is honest, and I can respect it.” He settled back in his seat, quiet for a moment. “I do not wish to do your daughter any harm,” he said slowly, “nor do I wish to see her unhappy. I am neither cruel nor heartless, and intend to see her well taken care of.” He felt he would like to ease Lord Edmund’s mind some, even if he could not promise undying love to the Lord’s daughter. Catherine was obviously quite pleased with the prospect of marriage, whereas Charles had not been pleased much at all. He had no desire to marry and yet his path had been chosen for him. He wouldn’t take it out on the pretty little Catherine; he would take care of her. But he made no promise that he could, or would, love her. He paused as he took his drink from the silver tray and set it on his desk, then waited for the Lord Edmund to have his before he continued. Charles thought back to what his guest had said, thought wryly that though she might have the potential to be a good wife, she was no virtuous maiden. The King had already had his way with her, and yet had been disinterested in her after so short a time. “I will strive to make your daughter happy,” he said, “though I cannot offer her the full extent of time and devotion that a man of lesser standing could offer her. She will never be mistreated, however, and will have the material things that her heart desires.” What more of a promise could he make than that? He could not, would not, promise fidelity. |
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10:53 AM Jul 11